Night shift and speaking life

Time on the wards is so hearty for my soul.  I’ve just worked a string of night shifts, but even those were times of rich conversation getting to know our Malagasy Day Crew a little deeper, praying over children having issues with pain or itching, and becoming more aware of the spiritual warfare raging on our patients in the wards. 

I got to take care of one particular patient, she was from a different ward; she had a facial tumor removed, and they had to pull some creative moves to remove part of her cheek bone and replace it with a muscle from the top of her scalp.  After a 5 hour surgery, needless to say, she had a lot going on.  An extremely long incision, a tube running from her nose to her stomach so she could receive nutrition instead of eating and possibly harming her facial incision; she had one tube keeping her nasal passage open, and her poor face was still very swollen from surgery- even several days post op when I took care of her.

Working night shift with her, I had very minimal contact, since she slept for most of the night.  She remained in A ward, while I cared for the majority of my patients in B ward.  We kept a Day Crew interpreter in her room so that if she needed anything she could come fetch me.

Interacting with this patient brought me back to my medical/surgical days.  She had a lot going on, more so than the little orthopedic kids we have in the ward.  Meeting her at shift change, she was visibly downtrodden.   I could tell all the liquid feedings, nausea, vomitting, tubes and pain were wearing on her.  The eyes truly are the channel to the soul.  I had sympathy for the struggles and uncomfortable days and nights that probably felt like they would never end.  So most of the night looked like keeping up with her pain medication, moistening her nasal tube to keep it from getting crusty and stuck and administering her liquid tube feed in the morning. 

Courtesy of Mercy Ships Communications team

The morning came around and she had at least 6 medications due, all liquid antibiotics (the gross chalky kind you have to take as a kid) and pain medication.  Before I even started the tube feed, she had to retch, I cannot blame her, receiving liquid nutrition for 5 days straight along with gross medications (I’m sure she could taste when she burped) would take a toll on anyone, physically and mentally. Again, I could see the defeat in her poor swollen eyes.

Instead of starting her tube feed and leaving, I decided to stay in her ward and coach her through the last part of the morning I had with her.  So I gathered her meds, her tube feed and the interpreter and set to work.  Praise the Lord the Holy Spirit nudged me that morning not to rush off to my next task, because the time I got to sit with her was well spent.  I started her tube feed, told her I would go slow and split up her medications so she didn’t get them all at once; I told her I would try my best not to make her sick.  Then I decided/acted on my conviction to start a pep talk.  Through the interpreter I was able to tell her I could tell she was having a hard time, and that it was okay to have a hard time.  I told her it was okay to be frustrated, and that hungry is not a fun feeling (anyone that knows me knows I can empathize- I don't cope well with hunger at all).  I told her she was doing a good job keeping her incision clean and dry- she would dab it when it would start to ooze if she retched or saline would drip from her nasal packing.  I told her I know it feels like we made her face worse, but to just trust me and have patience.  She had waited years for someone or something to take care of this tumor in her face, and unfortunately it had to get worse before it could get better- sounds like our hearts before we trust the Lord, ehh?  I told her I thought her face was beautiful before and after her surgery.  And you know what?  She already had plans for when she was going home.  She just got married to her husband apparently, shortly before coming to get surgery, and for whatever reason they didn’t have a party or “reception-like” party after their wedding, so the first thing she gets to do when she gets home is celebrate! And what an appropriate thing to celebrate!  A new face and a new husband! 

While I did a lot of talking, I realized I not only spoke “true” things to her, but I spoke life.  I became very aware of what slowing down can do, what eye contact and genuine smiles can do, because I was rewarded with a smile before I left her ward that morning. 

Then today I read in Matthew  9:20-22 “Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him [Jesus] and touched the edge of his cloak.  She said to herself, ‘If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.’ Jesus turned and saw her...”

This woman with the bleeding is actually a side story when Jesus was on his way to a ruler’s house to check out his dead daughter.  But this “side-story” woman made it into the Holy Word of God.  This woman didn’t even want to be made known or acknowledged; she came up behind Jesus.  Her story could have been left out, ‘Sure, she touched his robes and was healed and slipped back into the crowd and left healed because of her faith.’   But she is included, and what did Jesus do?  He turned and saw her.  He saw this woman that had likely been neglected, shamed, embarrassed, outcasted, ignored, made to feel like nothing, and saw her.  The Messiah, stopped his pursuit to raise a dead girl to life- casual- in order to turn and see this woman who had probably not been “seen” or not wanted to be seen for 12 years. 

What an example we get to live by and how amazing that we get to strive for this type of interaction on Mercy Ships.  Jesus showed us the power in turning and seeing people.  Not just physically healing, but addressing the inner most part of the person, stopping, taking time, and lifting people out of the pit of feeling unworthy and making them feel human again.  

If I accomplished even an ounce of that with this woman, then what a victory for the Kingdom.